


Wait for You

by ReynaAtTheEnd



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Byleth has a lot of feelings, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I wrote this immediately after finishing Golden Deer for the second time, Misunderstandings, Sothis is both there are kinda not there, a lot of mentioned pairings, it's a little confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-09-27 13:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20408206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReynaAtTheEnd/pseuds/ReynaAtTheEnd
Summary: She knew - more than perhaps even his parents - how much his dream mattered to him. She couldn't ask him to stay behind, to give that up, just for her sake. No matter how much she wanted needed him to stay-"Teach? ...Hey, are you crying? What's wrong?"Or, in which Claude nearly screws up his proposal and Byleth has a lot of feelings. Extended version of Claude's S Support.





	1. Chapter 1

For the longest time, Byleth had preferred to avoid celebrations. It was something that could be chalked up to her magically-induced stoic nature; when she was young, sitting in a chair and watching while people laughed, sang, and danced together while unable to join in, she would sink into a sea of bewilderment and a sense of longing that only now did she fully understand. The first time she had truly enjoyed herself – as slight as that had been, compared to now – was the one Claude and her students had sprung on her after winning the mock battle.

It had bewildered her then, but now it made sense. Of course her emotions would be tied up in the people who literally made her human. One in particular...

The second time had been the ball. She remembered so vividly standing awkwardly to the side, watching the students mingle, repeatedly debating and discarding the notion of approaching someone – anyone – and asking to dance, to join in. Claude had taken the choice out of her hands, walking over and sweeping her away with that ironclad, playful confidence that drew her attention to him in the first place. No matter how many times she stepped on his feet or stumbled over them, he smiled through it, teasing her until she suddenly found herself smiling and laughing.

When had she fallen in love with him? Was it then? Was it in the goddess tower? Was it when he comforted her after her father died? Or was it later, when he saved her during Edelgard's assault on the monastery? When she saw him again after waking up?

She couldn't point to any one moment and say, 'that was it'. Because Claude was inexorably tied to the first time she truly felt joy, and all the moments afterwards, her memories fogged up a bit, leaving her with the strange impression that she had been in love with him since the very moment they met. Likely inaccurate, given the emotionless state she had been in then, but the mind has ways of playing little tricks on you. She had lived a life before him, though now she wondered sometimes how that was even possible.

It was as if he broke the chains sealing what served as her heart one at a time, tempering her quasi-divinity with his humanity.

_Perhaps it isn't fair to assign him sole credit, _Byleth thought as she watched Lysithea spin in coy circles around Linhardt, so close to where Raphael lifted Marianne up in the air while the formerly shy girl laughed aloud with joy. Ignatz trotted over to where Flayn was dancing with Sylvain, visibly drumming up his courage before cutting in and holding out his hand to the old yet young dragon girl to her utter delight. Sylvain looked so pleased, pointing encouragingly at the young painter before sauntering over to where Dorothea was belting out a gorgeous show tune, watching her with pure admiration. As he did so, Byleth's eye was drawn to Manuela, who casually knocked back her fourth tankard (still stone-cold sober, somehow) and grabbed Seteth by the hand, yanking him away from a visibly amused Catherine, Hilda and Ashe and onto the dance floor. Leonie had stopped dancing for a drink, though given how she kept cracking up at whatever Lorenz was saying to her, she might have trouble keeping it down. Cyril was playing the flute, not far from where Bernadetta and Felix were leaving the floor, clearly planning to call it a night. Given that Bernie had actually initiated a dance with the stoic swordsman – and one of the more risque Almyran ones at that – Byleth wasn't surprised that was about all the girl could manage for the evening. _I can think of a moment where each and every one of them brought out feelings in me for the first time...I can think of a moment where they gave me strength. _

Byleth leaned back against the pillar, exhaling slowly. Her mind fled away from the war, the truth about her origins, the reconstruction and the damning new title that loomed over her like a spectre; to happy times, simple moments, one after another, when she realized that she had a family.

_When Raphael revealed that he could strategize quite well now, and happily thanked her for being patient with him. When Claude confessed his dream to her and said he couldn't achieve it without her. When Marianne gave up her thoughts of self harm and thanked her for being so supportive. When Lysithea revealed her painful past and said that being her student had given her hope. When Claude called her 'my friend' instead of 'Teach', overjoyed at her returned and not even slightly resentful of her absence. When Ignatz decided to continue being a painter and chase his own path in life with her encouragement. When Cyril called her his big sister and said she made him brave..._

Flayn leaned into Ignatz's chest, visibly suppressing a squeal of delight as Seteth found his footing in the dance, one arm sliding around Manuela's waist. Marianne wrapped her arms around Raphael's neck, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him. Linhardt bent down and swept Lysithea off her feat (her high pitched squeak of surprise was audible even from where Byleth was standing!), carrying her off the floor towards the concession tables. Catherine laughed at something Ashe said and ruffled his hair. Hilda then came up behind the young archer, seizing him in a hug, and then dragging him off to dance.

Byleth smiled as she watched, a warm feeling of contentment settling in her stomach.

_When Seteth called her family and stepped into the void that Jeralt's murder had caused in her. When Leonie had thanked her for everything and swore to protect her in her father's place. When Hilda commented on her changed priorities and teased her over being so motherly. When Lorenz dropped his classist views and thanked her for not giving up on him. When Bernadetta said she'd like to travel the world with her, Felix gaining a new purpose beyond chasing his brother's ghost, Sylvain coming to terms with his crest, Flayn looking to the future with hope, Dorothea choosing to seek a marriage that would result in more than just material comfort, Ashe becoming certain of his place in the world, Claude told her...he couldn't do this without her..._

Her cheeks flushed lightly. It seemed that, now, without a war, without her job as his professor, her brain was determined to make her deal with something she'd been pushing aside.

She was almost tempted to give in to the group of church officials who'd been trying to bend her ear for large parts of the celebration to escape that thought process. Almost. Damn Rhea for once again dropping something like this on her shoulders with no warning (well perhaps not _no _warning...) without asking if she wanted it!

Her, a mercenary by trade, the Archbishop? Even having access to Sothis's divine knowledge didn't make that an easy prospect! It was terrifying enough caring for the lives of a handful of precious people...to care for all of Fodlan...heaven help her. When the first priest had approached her, she'd begged food poisoning and bolted for the courtyard. It was only thanks to Catherine, ever loyal, reliable and supportive, that she didn't have a total panic attack.

Even now, she had a bit of a cold sweat contemplating the task laid before her.

Reconstructing Fodlan – the task was monumental. She still had to take back Faerghus from Cornelia and the remaining imperial loyalists...if the woman had been replaced by one of Thales's people as Claude suspected, she'd likely have to deal with their remaining weapondry as well. That would make for a difficult battle, especially if the citizens were used to make demonic beasts in tandem with those metal constructs. Hopefully the citizens could hold out a little longer, though the food shortages meant she would have to march north sooner rather than later if she wanted there to be anyone left to save. It was her biggest task, ahead of trying to restructure the Empire with Edelgard dead...

...She needed to bring Dimitri's bones back home. Lay him beside his family, and pray that Sothis was taking care of them now. She needed to locate Felix's father – hopefully he was still alive – because if anyone could help bring Faerghus into a stable state, it was him. He would know the land and its people much better than her...and hopefully he would consent to take the throne.

Or hand it over to Claude.

The thought made Byleth smile, and warded off the headache associated with these plans. Claude had such a big heart, was so brilliant, that she could not imagine Fodland having a better king.

What remained of the Empire was bound to be a problem as well. For all of Edelgard's poor decisions, she had been a deeply charismatic ruler. Byleth had seen the like of her before, albeit in much weaker people, and she knew that many of her people would cling to the idea that she was a righteous ruler brought down by base trickery.

A rock settled hard in the pit of her stomach, and she groaned. Goddess (she could almost see Sothis making a face at her) she needed to talk to Claude about this before her head exploded. He always knew what to say to reassure her.

He knew her as well as she knew herself.

A quick look around, however, showed that Claude had slipped off without her noticing. _Odd. He was enjoying himself immensely. _They had lead the first three dances, one of which was Almyran. She'd felt rather than seen Nader and Judith smirking knowingly at them from the sidelines as he spun her around, catching her whenever she tripped up. He'd laughed and smiled in that way that lit up his eyes; that truly joyful smile that had twisted her whole being into knots long before she understood what that feeling meant.

Unhitching herself from the pillar she'd been leaning against, she placed her empty wine glass on a nearby table and slipped out of the great hall. She had a fairly good idea of where to look for him.

The late evening breeze was cool on her skin as she made her way to the goddess tower, quietly admiring the golden red rays of the setting sun coloring the monastery grounds. One of the old cats padded over and rubbed against her legs; she giggled and bent to pet it before continuing on her way. It was amazing how many of the animals here stayed, and recognized her after all these years.

She took the stairs in the Goddess Tower two at a time, stumbling slightly as she entered the warm golden chamber she'd wandered to so long ago. Sure enough...there he was.

“Hey there, Teach.” He said playfully, turning to face her; he'd heard her footsteps echoing off the stones. “Running away from the festivities again?”

“Nope.” She smiled at the surprised look on his face. “This time I'm running away from the officials. It's very different.”

Claude barked out a laugh as she approached. Her pulse sang at the beautiful sound; did it show on her face? “No kidding! They've been pestering me as well; really, they couldn't wait until tomorrow?” He shrugged. “Ah, I suppose it's not strange that they're all so cagey. With the war won, everything is changing. The status quo is in pieces. And who knows what the new archbishop has in store for the people now?”

“Don't even joke about that,” Byleth half pleaded, half groaned, raking both hands through her hair. “I barely know where to start. Half of me wants to kill Rhea; the other half wants to run away to Almyra. Or Brigid.” Her hands slid over her face, tugging on the strands of shimmering emerald green hair that some days seemed equal parts a blessing and a curse. “Ah, how can the end of the fighting only be the _start_? I wasn't trained for this!”

“That's true...but you've got a good head for it.” She peaked at him from between her fingers, giving him a most incredulous look. He had the nerve to smile in response. “What? I'm serious! Having you at that round table conference was a blessing.”

“_You _did most of the work.” That conference had been a eye-opening experience. She remembered being so frequently exasperated by Claude's scheming ways during her time teaching him; the conference had proven without a shadow of a doubt that it was a necessary skill of his, not just a hobby. Just the first day had left her head spinning.

“And _you_ mediated the egos in the room so expertly that what usually took me a month took twelve days.”

_That _got her to drop her hands in surprise. “Really?”

Claude crossed his arms, a distinctly catlike edge to his smile. “Oh yes. If you think Lorenz can be argumentative, he's got nothing on his father; and the rest of them aren't much better. I was ready to be trapped in that building for ages, and you came to my rescue once again! You kept everyone on topic, always cut straight to the heart of the matter, and whenever someone gave you trouble you just glared them into submission.” His eyes danced at the memory. “It's a thing of beauty, that visible exertion of your iron will. _Particularly _when you use it someone other than me.”

“Is that right...” Byleth tried to think back. She didn't recall the nobles being particularly receptive to her honestly-somewhat-panicky attempts to keep the narrative on track and get what they needed to win the next engagement. Lorenz's father in particular was very mulish, attacking every point they raised. Had she really made _that _big a difference? “I hadn't realized...”

Claude laughed again, though there was something gentle in it. “You know...you said the same thing after your second month teaching at the monastery. Manuela was singing your praises all while you stood there, looking baffled.”

Byleth looked wonderingly at him. _You remember that? _She knew what he was referring to, and that feeling of bafflement had lingered for some time afterwards.

“I know you're nervous, but don't be. You'll be fine.” Claude's expression suddenly became serious. “...No, you'll be _amazing_. You're good with people, Teach. You can read their hearts in a way even Edelgard and I couldn't compare to.”

Her face was burning. The faith he had in her never failed to make her light headed, how he believed in her as if she was Sothis herself. She fought so hard to be worthy of that, wanted him to always look at her that way. “That's not true. I wouldn't be half the person I am if I hadn't met you.”

Was it wishful thinking, or did his eyes light up at that? Her blood was roiling; she pressed a hand against her stomach, close to the pocket where she kept her mother's ring. The words again pressed at the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn't open her mouth. Fear kept her throat locked.

“Is that right?” Something in his voice was different. Before Byleth could try to interpret it, he went on, “The coordination is just the first step; and don't forget, you're never alone. Seteth, Catherine, Manuela, they'll all be there to give you advice on a day to day basics. And that's not counting the rest of the Deer! Responsibilities aside, you'll always be Teach. You can count on our support, always.”

She let out a shaky breath. “Ah...I guess...it would be poor form to leave the job half finished. Or to murder my predecessor for dropping it on me.” They both laughed. She sobered first and tugged at her hair, feeling shy despite the ease of her burdens. “Thank you so much, Claude. Let's hope Hilda doesn't force us to wear anything too ridiculous for the ceremony.”

Claude's smile dropped at that. He let out a sigh and said, “Ah...about that. I won't be there. I'm sorry.”

“You're what?” Her stomach lurched.

“I'm going back to my homeland.” He said the words simply, gently, yet they caused the world to drop out from under her feet. She stared open mouthed at him. “Either tomorrow or the day after. My Fodlan blood...I've made as much use of it as I could. Now it's time for me to do the same at home.”

“T-That's...w-what?” Something hard formed in her throat; she swallowed over it, and doing so _hurt_. “You're...just leaving?” He wasn't home _here_? He didn't...didn't want to stay?

He nodded. “To make lasting change, I have to go back. I have some connections to the throne, insignficant they might be.” _That was a fine way to describe being the bloody prince_, some tiny part of her brain not paralyzed with shock remarked. “It's time for me to struggle all over and see what kind of good I can do. The problems between our nations aren't exclusive to Fodlan's side of the border, after all.” _Our nations. Mine and his. He doesn't consider...d-doesn't... _“As for Fodlan...well, I leave it your capable hands. All the people who were afraid, clung to nothing but their goddess...they'll rely on you the same way they relied on Rhea. And I...I want a ruler who will lay down a new set of values for the people, ones that won't exclude anyone for being different.” _He wants me to lead the land without the man I saved it for? _“I know it's a lot to ask. But you're the only one who can do it.”

_But you can't-please, you can't-_

The words nearly came out; she choked on them, squeezing her eyes shut. She scrabbled for the old stoicism, the coolness that absorbed all feeling and suppressed it.

Stupid. Stupid of her to forget. Hadn't he told her? His dream went beyond just Fodlan; it covered all the land they knew. He couldn't change things for the better stuck in wherever the new capital would be, dealing with day to day troubles. Claude had always been larger than life; a whirlwind that picked you up and threw you somewhere new, changed everything in your life until it was totally unrecognizable. But the wind never stayed in one place. It traveled all over the world, only surrounding you for a precious moment...

_Please stay with me-_

This was his dream. She knew better than anyone – perhaps even his parents – how precious this was to him. She couldn't ask him to abandon it, leave behind the cause he'd devoted his life to, just so she could be...

“Teach?” Claude's worried voice sounded somewhere nearby. Her eyes were still shut tight, burning at the corners. “Hey, are you...crying?” Warm leather brushed against her face. Instinctively her hand snapped up and grabbed his wrist, arresting him mid-motion. Swallowing very hard against the rock in her throat, Byleth forcibly took a deep breath. “What's wrong? ...Byleth? I-”

“I see,” She interrupted, a little equilibrium coming to her as the decision she came to settled in her mind. _I love you. _He would win Almyra over. He had won her, after all, literally taught her how to be human. He could conquer anything. _I love you. _Perhaps she could find reasons to visit the country sometimes. It shouldn't be that hard, with them being neighbors trying to build a better relationship. _I love you... _That was the old saying, wasn't it? To love someone, to truly love them, you had to be willing to let them go? “I understand.” She blinked a few times, her vision a bit blurry. “Almyra will be lucky to have you. I will prepare everyone here for the changing times. It can't be any harder than storming Shamballa.”

Claude's face came back into focus slowly. His green eyes were wide with worry. “That would be more convincing if you didn't look like you had a knife in your ribs,” He said with a bit of heat. “Byleth-”

“I won't fail.” Byleth repeated, managing to inject a note of confident force into her voice. It was hard, with him saying her name. Hesitantly, she reached into her coat and drew the drawstring bag out. “But...before you go...I have something for you.”

The ring dropped into her palm, glittering beautifully in the sunset. The chain was still there, from when she had been wearing it around her neck while she mourned her father all those years ago. Stowing the bag, she worked the clasp open and slid it around his neck. He stood stock still, for once in his life at a loss for what to do, as she hitched it and then took a step backward. “I want you to have this,” she spoke around the rock. “I hope it makes you think of me.”

Claude took it in his hand, staring at it for a moment. “This is your mother's.” He whispered. “It's – it's her _wedding ring_, isn't it?”

Of course he wouldn't make this easy. She nodded tightly. “Yes. My father said...” She hesitated, then forged on, “...that it was mine to give to another. It's my token for you. My gratitude. For – for everything you've given me.”

She took a step back. _Manuela have better had left some wine for me. _“Good luck, my prince. I...I wish you the best of fortune.” Turning on one heel, she made to head for the stairs. _I can make it back to my old room before I start crying. _

His hand lashed out and grabbed her. “Byleth, _wait!_”

“Please let go.” She hated how strained her plea was, how very nearly pathetic she sounded.

He shook his head, spinning her around so he was facing her again. “No way.” His eyes blazed with a familiar intensity. “Not like this. What are you not saying, my friend? What's hurting you so much? I've only seen you like this a few times, and I do not like being responsible for you wearing that expression. What's wrong?”

“I nearly said something very selfish,” She responded tightly. She tried to twist out of his grip, but somehow in spite of her incredible goddess-given strength, he held her firm. “I'm sorry about that.”

“And what was that?” Something in his expression gave her a sinking feeling that he, at least, suspected. “I've been with you too long, and seen you go through too much, to begrudge you _anything _my friend_. Please_, let me make this right.”

“What I wish for, I cannot force you to give.” The rock was getting heavier. Oh Sothis, why couldn't he just let go? “Especially if it would keep you from the dream you hold so precious. That is all.”

“Keep me from...? Oh, _Byleth...” _

Something in the way he said it – that tender, aghast tone – tore something inside her. “I don't want you to leave,” She said in a strangled whisper. “Can't you see? Every time you made me feel something, I fell a little bit further, until suddenly my whole world was _you_ and I don't want to do this without you.” She clamped a hand over her mouth. “Ah! _How_ can such a smart man not know how much I lo-” She choked the word down. She felt rather than heard him suck in a sharp breath. “I'm sorry.”

There was a single, agonizingly long moment's pause.

Then both his hands cradled her cheeks. “No, _I'm_ sorry.” Claude responded softly. “Because _clearly_, I should have started with this.”

Her confusion was smothered by his lips pressing against hers.

Shock didn't even _begin _to describe how she felt. Claude was kissing her – he was _kissing _her, holding her, running his fingers through her hair. Grief suddenly replaced with a wild, raging hope, she all but collapsed against his muscular chest, leaning into his touch like a drowning woman clinging to salvation. Her hand slid over his chest, where it could feel his heart racing.

They stayed like that for a long moment before parting. Claude smiled guiltily at her, his fingers brushing away her remaining tears. “Gods, that was amazing,” He said with a painful sincerity. “After so long...”

Byleth let out a shaky laugh, dizzy from the radical shift in emotion. “Y-You...you are such a...argh, _Claude! _How long have I not noticed?”

“Years,” He responded in a blithe way undercut by the loving glow of his eyes.

She sputtered and flailed for a moment before smacking the flat of her palm against his chest. “That's – you didn't say anything! How was I supposed to...I just assumed you were...I don't know how to notice these things!”

Claude pulled her into a tight hug. “I'm sorry.” He said it again and again as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, clinging to him until her dazed laughter subsided. Then he shook his head in amazement. “Man...I didn't think you'd beat me to it! Usually we understand each other so closely we don't even need to speak. It's my fault for just assuming you always knew.”

She tilted her head up at him, eyes shimmering. “What are you saying?” She parroted back at him. Claude smiled, eyes suspiciously bright; one hand left her shoulders and dug into his coat pocket.

Byleth very nearly started crying again when he took her hand and slid an emerald studded silver ring over her finger. “When I first met you,” Claude murmured into her ear, “I wanted to use your powers to my advantage. I wanted...to use you to make my dream of a united Fodlan a reality.” The guilt in his voice was a tangible thing. “But before long I realized that what I wanted – what I _needed –_ was to see that world with you at my side. Remember the first time we danced?”

She smiled up at him. “That was when...?”

He kissed the top of her head. “I thought it would be fun, because you looked so nervous. When you go into it...when you started smiling and laughing...gods, I wanted to kiss you. I had never wanted anything so much.”

Byleth stood on her toes and caught his lips in hers again. She felt a burning fiery heat where her heart might have been. _All that time and he... _In hindsight, she only felt a _little _stupid, though she swore she could hear Sothis laughing at her obliviousness.

“I still feel that way, you know. I always will.” He gently broke away from her, stroking her cheek. “I'm _not_ leaving forever. Nothing will stop me from coming back – there's no way I'd let you go. I just have to finish what I started, then I'm coming back to you.” He squeezed her hand. “To my wife.”

_My wife. _Byleth closed her eyes, letting the words rush over her. There was a title she wanted, craved more than anything else. “I love you,” She whispered into his neck, tightening her grip on him. “Do you know you're the light of my life? So much of my happiness comes from you...you saved me in every way possible.” Without him, she would just be the Ashen Demon, wandering from one battle to the next, destroying many things but building nothing. Lonely and lost, little more than a walking corpse. “I'm the one who got lucky...I love you, Claude von Reigan.”

Claude let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I don't want to leave you, even just for a little while,” He confessed, brushing her hair aside. “I wish you could come with me. I want to show you the city I lived in as a child, take you to the Sky Festival, marry you under the bleeding sky. I still plan to – you're not getting out of that,” she laughed, bright and warm, and he had to resist the urge to melt. “...but it has to wait. Fodlan needs you more than anything right now.”

He kissed her temple once, twice, trailing down towards her lips. “I love you,” he murmured. It sounded like a prayer. “With everything I am. When I come back...we'll be able to look out at our world together. A peaceful, happy world.”

Byleth tilted her head up to kiss him again, raising one hand from his shoulders to tangle her fingers in his hair. “I'll wait for you...” She promised between breaths. “I'll wait for you as long as it takes...my king...my Claude...”

How long they stayed there, Byleth wasn't sure...it was only when she was resting her head on his shoulder that she noticed the low light in the tower. The sun was setting...likely the celebration would wind down in a little while as everyone got some well-deserved rest. A thought crawled into her head, brought there by her burning blood, and she smiled, disentangling herself from Claude's embrace before taking his hand and tugging him towards the stairwell.

“Where are we headed in such a hurry?” Claude asked, a teasing note back in his voice. “I suppose Seteth could hold a private ceremony for us, assuming he's willing to stop scowling disapprovingly at me...but I wouldn't bet on it.”

Byleth rolled his eyes in amusement all while inwardly chastising herself for not noticing something Seteth figured out. Considering how deliberately dense he'd been over Flayn's obviously growing feelings for Ignatz... “We're retreating to my quarters, obviously.” She replied, striding down the stars with purpose and pulling him along in her wake.

“Oh, is that right? Whatever for?”

She smirked at him over her shoulder and replied without skipping a beat, “So I can bring you to bed and make love to you until the sun rises.” Claude's face turned a brilliant shade of red, green eyes widening; whatever he'd meant to tease her with reduced to incoherent stuttering. “I do not know when I will next get the chance to hold you, and tomorrow you must go and I must begin to reform hundreds of years of lies and misguided rules. I want to have this moment that is purely mine and yours.”

She stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned, letting him scramble to a stop an inch from her. She kissed him once more and finished, her own face burning a bit, “If you want me, that is.”

She must have truly surprised him, because the smile he gave her in reply was flustered and shy rather than the poised, coy grins she was used to. “_If_ I want you? You have no idea how long I've-” He stalled at that, face somehow turning even redder. “Um, that is...well. How much trouble am I in if I finish that sentence?”

Byleth settled for smiling innocently. “I'd have to think about it.” She tugged pointedly on his arm, walking toward the lower dormitory she still called her room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a clearly tipsy Hilda leaning on Ashe as they left the ballroom. Yet despite her state, the pink haired heiress spotted them, grinned massively and pumped her fist. Then she tapped Ashe hard on the shoulder and pointed at them.

The fact that Ashe smiled brightly before handing over several gold coins told Byleth two things – one, there was _absolutely _a betting pool, and two, Hilda had just volunteered to be the ambassador to northern Faergheus and Duscar.

“Don't say anything,” She said to Claude. “I want her to feel smug right up until I spring my revenge.”

“I've been such a good influence on you,” her prince sighed contently.

They didn't run into anyone else down the steps and into the small, comfortable room Byleth called home. Locking the door behind them, Byleth let her cloak slide to the floor as she crossed over to where she kept her lamp, lighting the candle and placing by the bedside. She felt Claude's fingers skate up her back along her spine; a small, involuntary sigh escaped her lips. “You're so beautiful,” He murmured.

Nerves bubbled beneath the burning need in her stomach. “No one's ever said that to me before.” She whispered. “People were frightened of me, when they paid me any mind at all.”

Claude traced a path down her bare arm to her wrist, tugging her toward him and turning her into his chest. “You're beautiful,” He whispered, repeating the words again and again as she undid his shirt and slid it off. A sly smile crossed his features; before she could guess what he was thinking, he hooked his ankle around her leg and unbalanced her with a single quick move; she fell back on the bed with a startled shriek and halfheartedly glared up at him. “Sorry. Couldn't resist.” There were some scars marring his golden brown skin; the longest one, inflicted by the Death Knight, ran across his lower stomach. Byleth's stomach twisted at the sight of it; he'd saved her from a fatal counterattack and couldn't quite move out of the way in time. He could have died if not for Marianne.

“Hey.” His knees dipped the mattress on either side of her, one hand snaking under her chin and raising it. “Don't look so grave.” His green eyes bore into her. “That was nothing.”

“Claude...” Of course he'd say that. What was worse was that he was echoing something she'd said herself; in distracting one of the Empire's Demonic Beasts to ensure he could kill it, it struck her hard enough to break her ribs. “Alright.” She leaned forward and kissed him, tracing sprawling lines down his chest.

“That's better. Oof!” Claude let out a startled laugh when she used his distraction to flip him over onto his back, driving him into the mattress. “Okay. Maybe I deserved that,” He watched her crawl up his chest, a dazed look filling his eyes. “Oh, Goddess...”

It was probably a good thing Byleth was so entranced, or she might have heard the amused chuckle at the back of her mind. “Say my name,” She pleaded. The first time he'd called her by it...the shudder where her heart had been...

His hands slid down to her hips. His eyes were deep, dark and knowing. “Byleth.”

She shuddered. It sounded like a prayer. “I've never done this before.” She confessed. “I know how. But I've never...” She blushed. “I hope I can...” _please you, _the words wouldn't quite come out.

Claude smiled gently. “Don't be afraid. You'll be wonderful.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Come closer.”

\+ _ + _ + _ + _ +

Three months into her tenure as Empress Fodlan, it began to occur to Byleth that perhaps the persistent nausea and dizziness stalking her wasn't just from frantically trying to restore the lands of the former Kingdom to a peaceful state. At first she blamed it on the weather, then on the endless negotiations (thank Sothis for Rodrigue, she wouldn't have made _any _progress without him!), then on her heartbreak as she fought to get clean water and food to the starving masses at the former capital...

Perhaps it would have been completely obvious had she not been so busy. There were so many things to do – important things! – that she set her own problems aside even in the face of Marianne's disapproval. She was used to working through pain and discomfort, after all, and the matters of intimacy frequently slipped her mind even as she lamented the absence of her brilliant, politically astute fiance. Fortunately, even she couldn't ignore her body forever, so after a long day of walking through Firdiahd ensuring as many of her new subjects had a roof over their head as possible, she retired directly to her room and called for Marianne.

“You're working too hard,” Hilda complained, brushing the tangles and snowflakes out of Byleth's hair as they sat in her current room in the former royal palace. “You're not well, professor. Can't you delegate most of this to us? You stuck me with this ambassador job for a reason, and Ashe lives here!”

“Seteh says that I need to be as visible as possible in the reparations.” Byleth responded with a sigh, chewing harder on the ginger she'd been brought. “Cornelia, whatever her real name was...she ruined these lands. She framed their rightful prince and sparked the events leading to his death. Under her, people suffered, starving and struggling to survive. If I want these people to accept my rule...I have to prove that I care about them, that I will attend their ills, that they don't need to fear the years ahead.”

“You've already done so much just by ensuring every town had ways to purify water,” Ashe said softly. Byleth ached for her younger friend. The state of his home country was clearly devastating for him, and she knew he was still quietly mourning that they'd been unable to save Dimitri. “And you brought food with you, enough that some of the former Alliance nobles complained. They won't begrudge you getting sick.”

“I hope so,” Byleth sighed, swallowing. “Because I likely need to take tomorrow off...”

The door creaked open, heralding Marianne's arrival. The heiress smiled lightly, pleased to see her professor resting, and there was something in her eyes that Byleth couldn't quite read. “I'm sorry to make you wait,” She said simply, waving off Byleth's protests as she came to a stop in the chair next to hers. For a moment, the room was quiet aside from the swirling winter winds at the window and Marianne's humming as she ran diagnostics. Byleth's eyes snapped open when she heard the blunette gasp softly.

“What is it?” She asked.

Marianne raised her head and smiled very brightly at her – goddess, it reminded Byleth of how she'd smiled at her wedding to Raphael – and responded, “Well, I'm very glad you decided to make your engagement public, your highness.” She replied merrily. “I thought the symptoms might be morning sickness, but I wasn't sure until now.”

Byleth stared at her for a moment, unsure if she'd heard her correctly – Hilda's squeal and Ashe's shocked gasp seemed to come from very far away. “I...I'm...you sure?”

“Certain.” Marianne nodded. “You're three months along. I'm not certain, but I believe it's a girl. Congratulations.”

“I...” Byleth wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I...I need to write a letter.”

“I'll go get your things!” Hilda volunteered, before bolting from the room, laughing and squealing 'baby!' as she went, taking any hope of the discovery staying quiet with her. Byleth gave it until sundown before her people, the kingdom staff, and the locals all knew. Seteh would scold her, Catherine would laugh and laugh, Flayn would probably be excited...

The person who's reaction she craved the most was miles away. She bit her lip. How could she get this knowledge to him fastest? She would have to ask Seteth, once he ran out of steam.

“Claude...come back to me soon...”

Ashe let out a gentle chuckle, snapping her out of the rapidly approaching panic. The young knight knelt down next to her and said, “Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Once he hears about this, he'll make it back in no time.”

“...You're right.” She smiled down at her stomach. “He will be.”


	2. I'll Be Back Before You Know It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nader and Judith are there when Claude learns his wife is pregnant. They keep him from panicking...just barely.

Nader could safely say that not a lot surprised his prince, and even less caused him to actively loose his cool. The few times it did happen tended to either be very serious, or very funny. What happened about two weeks before Claude's ascension to the Almyran throne was a bit of both, and naturally it had everything to do with the woman he so fondly called 'Teach'.

Now, Nader was rather fond of Byleth Eisner. She'd taken the wild, idealistic son of his king and turned him into a brilliant warrior and prince, she was a demon in a fight and she was rather endearing on a personal level with just _how much _she obsessed over helping seemingly everyone she came across achieve their goals. It was no surprise to him that Claude had pined for her for the longest time, and how miserable being apart from her made him despite his efforts to hide it. She was the kind of woman who inspired lifelong loyalty; if he'd lived in Fodlan, he himself might well have been swept up in her wake. And now she was Queen of the whole continent; that seemed about right, as far as he was concerned.

Of course, if life were perfect, Claude would have been able to bring her here for the summer solstice festival and marry her on the spot. Naturally, politics wouldn't allow for it. At least the reasons were less ridiculous than the ones the boy's grandfather gave for refusing to treat the king's marriage as 'legal' (whatever _that _was supposed to mean. Marriage was an act of love, not legality.). Fodlan was a mess after the war that girl (Edge-something?) started, and someone had to keep everything from going down in flames.

That didn't mean he liked watching Claude mope about in the late hours of the day, staring longingly at the silver and purple ring she'd given him. It seemed like whenever he wasn't working like a man possessed to be recognized as king and smooth over lingering feelings to their western neighbors, he just couldn't ignore her absence. It didn't help that the Almyrans who had seen her fight were quite happy at the thought of her becoming queen, and frequently nagged him about when she would arrive and when the wedding would be.

If you'd told him just a few years ago that his people would be beside themselves with excitement at the thought of having a Fodlan-born queen, he would have laughed.

Anyway...Nader rarely saw Claude freak out over something. The kid had significant control over his emotions no matter the situation. Which made for an interesting experience when Judith walked into the king's chamber with a pair of letters.

“Oh, you're back early,” Claude said distractedly, sliding the ring back under his shirt and standing up. “Did something happen at the border?”

Judith scoffed. “Nothing like that. I just figured you'd want this as soon as possible.” She held out one of the letters to him.

Claude's eyes lit up when he recognized the handwriting. Judith laughed when he wordlessly snatched the letter from her and cracked the seal open with palpable enthusiasm. “My, my...that girl owns you, doesn't she?”

“Don't be like that,” He complained, pulling the letter out. “I haven't heard from her since she started traveling to Faerghus!”

“A whole two months ago,” Judith snarked, a light smile on her face; she'd been pleased as a cat with a canary when Claude told them he'd gotten engaged to his old professor. Byleth had impressed her quite a bit during the war, not just as a warrior but as a mediator as well. On top of that...she was just _good _for Claude, and her natural stoicism always melted around him.

Claude didn't even seem to notice the jab, much to Nader's amusement. He was totally absorbed in the words from his woman, even reading a few sentences out loud without seeming to notice. The demeanor change was so distinct from his usual self, it was no wonder enough of those Fodlan kids had noticed to start a betting ring. Clearly, whoever won was sitting pretty.

With that in mind, it was a little concerning when Claude, upon reaching a certain point, let out a strangled sound and staggered, backing into one of the room's pillars. A little alarmed by this, Nader made his way over and looked over the prince's shoulder at the letter, squinting to read the messy handwriting. “What's the matter, kiddo?”

“...I...” Claude stammered, his hands trembling. “...I'm...I'm...she's...”

Okay. What in the seventh hell? Nader frowned at the paper; even after these years, he still found Fodlan's written language a bit difficult to parse.

_...Marianne says...it's a girl. I'm not certain, yet...feels right. ...three months...a bit early... Now the cravings have started. Woke Flayn in the dead of night asking for fish...was rather embarrassed when I woke again... Suddenly I'm craving spices in everything...she'll be born able to breathe fire at this rate... ...not showing much...can see it now, though... ...feel so silly...failed to notice something obvious again... Haven't thought of names...mother was Lilah...please tell me..._

_Ah...so nervous...wish I could see you...speak to your mother...Seteth is hovering something awful..._

_Miss you..._

“What's going on?” Judith asked a little waspishly, tapping her foot. “Care to fill me in, boys?”

“The little lady's pregnant,” Nader responded with a nonchalant shrug, though internally he was quite gleeful. A baby! A little princess! And judging by when Claude left to return home, the girl would be born in the last month of winter, as the snow melted. A good omen indeed; he'd speak to the diviners anyway, but he was sure of it.

“_What?!_” The warrior woman strode across the room, plucking the letter from a still-shaky Claude's hand and reading it hurriedly. “That's...already?! And while she's in the frozen north?! That's not very ideal!” She gave the boy an exasperated look. “You really couldn't _wait_?”

“C'mon, have some pity will you?” Nader patted Claude's shoulder. “Did any of us expect the transition to be accepted so smoothly? I figured it would be two years before they could see each other again, at least.”

“So did I,” She acknowledged, “but really, at least she had the sense to announce the engagement, lest she suffer a massive storm of nonsense from the nobles. Not that I think it would have mattered, considering how popular she is, but in a time of change it's best to avoid such things...”

Nader laughed. “Ah, the warriors are going to be extra anxious for her arrival when this news breaks.” Children are a blessing from the gods, after all.

Claude finally seemed to snap out of his daze at that. He blinked a couple of times, pressing a hand against his mouth to muffle a weak laugh. His eyes were overly bright, like part of him wanted to cry and was at war with the rest of his feelings. Right when it seemed one side might win, clarity snapped back with a vengeance. He pushed himself off the pillar, stumbling a bit, then rushed right out of the room without saying a word.

“Excuse me, where do you think you're going?!” Judith asked, startled, taking off after him.

“I have to go back,” He responded, his tone faint like he was half asleep.

She grabbed him by the arm. “No, you have to stay until you've taken the bloody crown, or have you forgotten the entire reason you came here?”

“But I have to see her!” Claude protested heatedly. “She's – she's pregnant. With my...I have to – I need to –” He shuddered violently, his nails digging into his right hand. “I have to go back to her, I have to _be there, _I...”

Judith grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “And you will.” She said firmly. “_After_ you've been crowned, you'll get on your wyvern, take your honor guard and fly to her. You'll kneel in front of her and beg her forgiveness for your absence throughout her pregnancy, and the two of you will marry as soon as the church can organize it. Then you can discuss returning here for the festival, depending on her health at that time, for marrying before our gods.” She flicked his forehead; unlike every other time, he didn't even flinch. “You're panicking. Stop it.”

“She's right, kiddo.” Nader offered, once he caught up. “The little lady herself isn't begging you to come back immediately, just to send a rambling letter. That leaves you plenty of room to surprise her by actually showing up.”

Claude sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. _So those _are _tears, _Nader thought when the telltale sparkle dripped down the boy's cheek. _You've made him cry again, little lady. I bet you know how much that means to him. _

Claude didn't cry; even as a small thing, beset by children thoughtlessly critical of his mixed blood, he was as stubborn as his mother. He wore his smile as both a sword and a shield, never giving so much as a hint that something, or someone, had gotten to him. It wasn't that he was never hurt by people's ignorance or hatred; he just loathed to acknowledge it.

Then, when he met this strange, powerful and yet (paradoxically) very gentle woman, he'd hid his feelings out of nerves. Surely even a kindhearted (if quiet and repressed) woman wouldn't seriously fall for the charms of a half-breed? As she'd grown steadily more in tune with her emotions, Claude's occasional letters to him had taken on an increasingly lovesick tone.

And then she'd vanished. If Claude had cried in those first few days, when he'd fruitlessly searched the ruined monastery and surrounding rivers for any sign of her, Nader hadn't been there to see it. What he did remember, though, was coming into Claude's office to find the new Duke of Reigan sitting with his head in his hands, the expensive forged bow she'd given him as a gift lying across his knees.

_She's still alive, _he'd whispered, tears running down his cheeks in spite of the hope in his voice. _She has to be alive. _

Nader hadn't said anything – certainly hadn't voiced his then-certain belief that if she'd been alive, she would have come back to him by now – instead gently placing his hands on the young man's shoulders to comfort him.

“C'mon, kiddo,” He said sympathetically. “There's no need for those now. Not until the girl is born.”

“T-That's...” Claude's proud voice broke; he frantically rubbed at his face, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Ah...why am I...I'm...I'm so happy, and yet...”

“You don't think people cry from happiness?” Judith fondly ruffled his hair. “Your lady is carrying your child, living proof of her love for you. Of course you're crying.” She sighed. “Come here, you silly boy.” She pulled him into a hug; she greatly disliked reminders that he was taller than her now, though he was in no condition to make such jokes in that moment.

Claude will seemed to crumble in that moment; a sob-wracked laugh escaped his lips, followed by another, and as he rested his forehead atop of his old friend's head the tears flowed fast and freely for the first time in many years.

_He could never quite believe you were real for the longest time, _Nader imagined saying to Byleth. _In the beginning, he couldn't trust anyone not to turn on him when they realized who he was. That's why he and the Fodlan children weren't fast friends at first. Then you came along and turned the whole damned world cockeyed. Nothing about him fazed you, and you were as quick to defend him as you were to box him 'round the ears for his antics. It's why it took him so long to tell you where he came from, and why he nearly screwed up confessing to you. He was afraid of loosing something he'd never find again, even if he looked for a hundred lifetimes. _

Heh. It was a decent speech, for an inelegant man like himself. Maybe he'd save it for the festival wedding. Someone should hold down the fort here while Claude rushed off, after all.

It would be a good day.

\+ _ + _ + _ + _

_I've had better days, _Byleth thought bleakly, wrenching the Sword of the Creator out of the Demonic Beast's corpse just before it turned into shadows, and then into the broken figure of what was most likely a citizen of Enbarr. A horrible surge of dizziness hit her, and she stumbled back into Lysithea, who killed the brawler trying to approach her before dragging her back several feet.

“Why can't you wait in the castle?!” Her former student snarled in frustration.

“Because there aren't enough people who can wield a weapon here to hold the line,” Byleth rasped in response. Letting the sword unfurl, she whipped a Pegasus knight out of the sky with a single stroke, flinching as the rider shattered on the ground.

The army laying assault to her capital city was less than half the size of the one she could raise. Unfortunately, she'd been so preoccupied managing the crisis in Faerghus that events had conspired to ensure she _couldn't _bring her full force to bear against this rebellion. Rather, she'd had to rush back from the North with barely enough time to reach Deirdru before these rebels – the remnants of Edelgard's loyalists and scattered survivors of Shamballa – were on her doorstep. The rebels had taken great pains to conceal themselves up until this moment, hoping to take the heart of the new kingdom in a blitz attack and in doing so completely demoralize the fragile alliance she was building up.

Inside the city, she had Catherine, Seteth, Manuela, Lysithea, Linhardt, Hilda, Ashe and Leonie. Lorenz, Sylvain and Dorothea were frantically scrambling the men they had to come to her aid; Felix, Bernadetta, and Rodrigue were still up north, while Raphael, Ignatz, Flayn, Cyril and Shamir were holding Enbarr – and their respective armed forces had stayed with them.

Seteth had strongly opposed her fighting – hell, everyone had. Unfortunately, with just the city guard and a handful of former Alliance troops, it simply wasn't feasible for her and the Sword of the Creator to not be on the battlefield. As it was, Hilda, Lysithea and Seteth – armed with relics and a batallion of healers – were staying close, acting as her honor guard. Twice Hilda had been badly injured ensuring no one could reach her. Twice Seteth had nearly been shot down due to having to keep to an unfavorable position.

They simply didn't have enough men to rout the number of Demonic Beasts the rebels had brought with them. They were holding – had been for the entire night – but they couldn't break the deadlock. Something was going to give. Byleth hadn't been in a military scenario this bleak since Edelgard had invaded the monastery all those years ago.

Byleth had held up better than she had expected, truly. The Sword – Sothis's bones – and the power it held contributed much, of course, but for a woman four months pregnant, it was amazing she hadn't passed out or worse. Something to thank merging with Sothis's heart.

“The gate is going to come down if they throw another giant Demonic Beast at it,” Seteth said. “Your highness...”

“If I flee while this city burns,” Byleth bit out, “I doom my authority as queen for all time. I will not give up all I've fought for and won up until this moment to a pack of mad dogs and fanatics!” She wrapped one arm around her stomach. “I haven't exhausted my power yet. If the gate falls, I'll come up with another strategy.”

“How many more times can you do that?” Hilda gasped out, pulling back until she was standing in front of her. “You've never done that more than ten times in one day. What will happen if you push it too hard?”

She gritted her teeth. “I don't know,” She confessed, her stomach lurching as she spoke the words. Or was that her baby, feeling her distress? “We need a solution, and I don't know what else-”

She was cut off mid sentence by the thundering blare of a war horn.

In lieu of her heart stopping, shock laced burning heat through her entire body. She'd heard this before. The first time she'd heard it, she'd been helping Hilda defend her family's land. The second time, it had been when Almyran came as reinforcements crashed through the northern gates of Fort Mercius. She knew this sound...she could hardly believe she'd heard it, twisting to stare at her fellows to ensure it wasn't just in her head.

“Is that...what I think it is?” Linhardt said cautiously, staring across the ransacked street toward the gate.

The sharp cry of a wyvern answered him; Ashe flew down and landed slightly haphazardly on the street, his mount visibly exhausted from the long battle. “Your highness,” He greeted with a brilliant smile, “the siege is breaking. Almyra has come to support us!”

Byleth could barely breathe. “Claude?” She whispered, stunned.

Somehow Ashe must have heard her over the roaring cheers of civilians and the city watch, along with Leonie's cries, 'Rally to the gate! Rally to the king!', because he beamed at her. “He saved our hides; I was in a bit of trouble there,” He told her, rubbing his wyvern's neck affectionately. “He sent me back to make sure you're okay.”

Frankly, Byleth was certain the only thing that kept her from fainting was the random thought, _I will not pass out like some maiden in a storybook!, _interspersed with the wild chaos in her mind. How did he...when...she'd thought it would be _years _before she saw him again...

Hilda burst out laughing. “Reliable as ever, Claude! I bet he came running as soon as he read your last letter!”

“With a fresh new force here, Leonie can keep up the encirclement about the Demonic Beasts,” Seteth mused. “Without that brute force, the rebels have no chance. They're a poorly organized militia without a strong leader. With Claude here...” He bowed to her, then hefted his blessed lance. “I shall go out front, now, and lend my assistance. We have already won.” With that, his wyvern took to the sky.

Manuela chuckled, placing one hand on her lips. “You chose your husband well, Professor. To think he would come back in such a dashing fashion after disappearing so abruptly – it makes for a fine apology, does it not?”

Byleth was amazed to find herself laughing. She gave her head a shake and started walking down the street, Sword of the Creator hanging loosely at her side. “Walk with me, Ashe?” She asked. “It'll give Jace a break.”

“Of course, professor,” Ashe responded, giving his wyvern a final, decisive pet before sliding off and handing the reigns to his good friend. “Could you get him some water, Hilda? And some meat, if it's possible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hilda cackled. “I got it, now off you go!”

Byleth walked slowly at first, so Ashe could catch up...then she picked up the pace, as fast as she dared sprint considering she still had moments of lightheadedness. Down the streets she went, stepping over rubble and around healers tending to her wounded men, giving smiles and encouragement whenever they called out to her. There were losses, yes, and there would be time to mourn their bravery...but right now...right now...

As she approached the gate, the city watch forming a barrier between her and her goal, she saw the mid-sized Almyran force crash through the rebel army like wave breaking upon the beach. It was almost unfair to describe what happened as a _battle –_ Almyra was strong, perhaps even stronger than most average Fodlan militia, and they had the advantage of surprise. As the dawn broke, casting golden rays across the sky, Demonic Beasts fell in droves, rebels either battered down or dashed beneath the claws of the wyvern riders. Her eyes found him instantly, the flashy style that always drove her damned insane a sight so wonderful she didn't have words for it. He shot a flying beast out of the sky with one hit from Failnaught then dipped down below her sight to crash through a mage battalion.

_And he didn't want to learn how to shoot at close range, _She thought, pressing one hand hard against her mouth. _Oh...my prince, my Claude...you're here, you came back..._

The fighting didn't last. Within a short time, all that was left on the open field outside of Deirdru was the Almyran army and the remnants of the rebels; those who had surrendered and those who were bleeding out in the grass.

She walked out of the gates, Ashe at her heels just in case. Something that surprised her was the friendly cries of recognition from various Almyran soldiers when they saw her emerge, 'queen Byleth' falling easily from their lips. Claude had said they'd taken a liking to her, but she hadn't thought...

Well, that train of thought didn't last when a pearl white wyvern floated down and came to a rest several yards away from her.

Claude slid off his mount, jumping to the grass moments before the great beast landed. He looked just as she remembered, except for one detail; the bronze and golden diadem gracing his crown. He was king now, and perhaps she should have greeted him with the grace and dignity of her station, but the thought ran out of her head the instant she laid eyes on him. The moment blurred, but she stumbled and ran across the field until she found herself swept up in his warm arms. He didn't say anything; perhaps he was just as overwhelmed as her, but he simply clasped her face his hands and gazed at her with pure love and adoration before tilting her into a dizzying kiss. She leaned into it desperately, trying to convey a thousand words and feelings in that moment, as he parted her lips with his tongue and sought out a small part of what they'd shared the night before he left. Her knees buckled; he clearly felt it, because he slid one arm down around her waist to support her and shifted her weight so she was leaning on him, all without breaking their kiss.

_I waited, _Byleth thought dreamily, running her tongue over his teeth. _Can you see, father? I waited and he came back..._

Claude let out a soft moan and reluctantly broke away from her, whispering, “You're alright?”

“We're alright,” She responded softly, pressing his palm lightly against the swell of her stomach. “We're alright, because of you...” She dug her fingers into his hair, kissing him roughly with a drunken neediness that might have embarrassed her before. “Oh my love, I thought it would be _years_...” She uttered between kisses.

“You thought I could stay away, knowing you were pregnant?” He let out a small, sweet laugh. “Sothis forbid it.” His grip on her tightened. “I'm never leaving you again. Never.”

Byleth shivered, and nipped at his lower lip with a pleased sigh. His contented response reminded her how much he liked that. “How did you even know...”

“That's easy,” Claude answered lightly, “I was already on my way when I heard about the rebel's army moving from some merchants. They couldn't keep complete secrecy, despite their best efforts. Knowing that, I just had to call over my people who were lingering around Holst's land. It was a happy accident, really.”

“You were already...” She let out a weak, amazed laugh when she realized it. “You left after you got my last letter, didn't you?”

“Almost immediately.” He corrected lightly. “I'll have to thank my friends for not letting me run off half cocked.” Pressing a final kiss against her mouth, he swung her up in his arms. “Now, let's get you to bed so you can rest. Overtaxing yourself could hurt the baby...”

“But I need to at least...” she struggled just a bit before surrendering. “The city...”

“I'll take care of it.” He lifted her up into Josephine's saddle, then climbed up behind her. “I am your fiance, after all.”

Byleth leaned into his chest and smiled. “That's true.” She flinched when Josephine's wings began to move. “This, ah, this might make me throw up.”

She felt him shrug. “I'll live. It'll be a slow flight, though. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hee...I imagine Claude would be Very Emotional about being a father. Just like Byleth, he has a lot of feelings that most people don't pick up on, though in his case it's because he hides them very carefully. 
> 
> It took me a while before I came up with a version of this chapter I liked, and all the credit goes to my reviewers who wanted to see Claude react to the baby. I hope you enjoy it!

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, Byleth's reaction about sums up mine when I first saw this support. "Yeah, this is a bit of a mess, but at least we can do this toge-wait, what do you MEAN you're leaving?! I - but - wait. Oh. Oh, that's sweet of you. Crisis averted." 
> 
> I kinda sorta wish there were more frequently dialogue options for Byleth later in the game; it would really sell the idea that she/he is steadily becoming more emotional and human. Oh well. It's handled pretty well overall. Also, it's my headcanon that Byleth kinda sorta resents Rhea's tendency to drop them into serious positions without warning. She's like; Congratulations, you're the archbishop Byleth! I know how have no idea how the hell to be one, but I'm leaving all my incredibly extensive religious and spiritual power in your hands! You'll do great! (chuckles)


End file.
